My heart would soar if it weren’t on fire. He’ll agree. My extremities numb as my heartbeat pounds harder in my ears.
“I expect no less of you,” I say, barely containing the effort it takes to speak.
He laughs, soft instead of mocking. The laughter of a comrade. Someone aligned for now. The tendril loosens. Was he controlling it directly? I breathe in torturously slow to avoid seeming desperate for air.
“Finish this sacrifice. Caroline Forsyth will no longer be bound in this contract. But in addition…” His eyes flick up. Considering his words, or enjoying my anticipation? “It’s been too long without a more intimate sacrifice. You will kill the next living nonkin you see before I visit next. I will then consider all incurred debts between us paid. Fail this, and your soul is forfeit immediately. No wagers, no begging, no more deals.”
I need to think. Consider the exact meaning of every word. Wetness pools in my eyes as I fight a strangled cough. Tears sizzle into steam before they can fall. I’d kill to ensure Liney’s safety, and my own. I learned that last year. One stranger, whoever I see first? That’s nothing compared to the weight of what I’ve done.
But I’m not dealing with a man of honor no matter how his eyes soften and his blond-white brows turn up. The Devil doesn’t deal fairly.
Next living nonkin. Not Douglas, not Liney. Who? When?
“When will you visit again?”
There’s a crinkling at his eyes. Pride?
“Not before you have a chance to find someone,” he promises. “I have more business than this island, Elle. And cross my heart, I would like to see you succeed.”
Cross my heart.An oath to God. An oath to himself? Too much. The heat, the words, the weight of sailors crushed by my hands.
“You won’t return until I’ve found a living person, not of my relation, and have had time to prepare the sacrifice?” I say slowly.
The spiral is crushing the ship. Each snap of wood and creak of steel like pins coming out of hair. Satisfying. Freeing. Promising more.
Mr. Pratterman puts a hand on my shoulder. It’s as warm as I am.
“I’m helping you, Elle. I could consume you now for your negligence. Imagine the core of your being pulled into an agony your mortal nerves couldn’t begin to comprehend. Forever. Imagine Caroline, all alone—”
“Answer the question,” I interrupt. I won’t imagine her trapped. I swallow the bile in my throat until it is burning along with the rest of my senses.
“Yes.”
There are seconds left before the ship is engulfed in the spiral. The tendrils begin to collapse into the cave.
I hold his thin jaw in my hands. Each fingertip glows against his ash-white skin, making him appear flushed. Almost a man if not for the white lights that pierce through my red vision. Almost someone I could partner with. Ambition for ambition.
“I agree to this contract.”
One deal with the Devil makes a fool.
Two, a villain.
“Seal it,” he whispers.
His eyes burn brighter, taking control of the lighthouse’s power from me until all I see is white. I can’t feel the thrashing tendrils or the wailing men. Only him.
My human heart strains at its limits, my hands lead his face to mine, my lips connect to his once more.
Now I’m thoroughly damned.
9Elle
To Remember
Blakeney Pratterman, moon-eyed holder of my soul’s contract, tastes of char, smoke, and misery. He’s hungry, grabbing me like it’s him drowning instead of the men outside.
I never knew the Devil to feel desperate.
